


Mhmm~

by silentsoundy



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: NSFW, Oral, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 16:38:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3616842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentsoundy/pseuds/silentsoundy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One bored spymaster having a bit of on-duty fun with his bonded~</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mhmm~

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sacramental_Wine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sacramental_Wine/gifts).



> ||a one-off submission for a special someone's birthday~||  
> \--TEXT-- : action  
> **TEXT** : telepathy

\--his manner remains much the same, acknowledged or not, either way he knows his Conjunx is aware of his presence. Whether it be from that constant, low pulse of their sparkbond, the constant eager seeking of their EM fields reaching for each other, the sensitivity of their mutual sensors picking up on inner machinations whose resonance is intimately familiar. The moment the dark spy enters Blaster's communications bay at the Karpathos compound, he forfeits all subtlety and stealth--

\--not that that was his goal, to maintain a low profile. But the timing? Ah, to have the music mech in the middle of a conference call between humans and Eradicons going over the minute details of global mining operations... Well, suffice to say that the timing of his arrival is in no way, shape, or form coincidental--

\--in fact, being so aware of each other, Blaster hardly shifts from his position in front of his main console, a flick of a servo in greeting is all he can spare at the moment, his focus pinned on attempts to placate both parties of the conversation. The only time his helm tilts is when he hears the bay doors close. And lock--

\--and quite suddenly the music mech will find a pair of rather intrusive feelers wending their way to slither over plating and shiver against seams, mandibles nipping into joints and cinching cables in attempts to garner any sort of reaction from the otherwise preoccupied mech--

\--the dark spy snickers and trills low when that larger frame does indeed twitch and try to shoo away his exploration, grinning, amused, as his bonded's vocals never falter throughout his very serious conversation--

**Master at multitasking~ Come, grant me a moment of amusement~**

\--now those lithe and long digits join in on the fun, curling over Blaster's hips and pelvic span to delve into all sorts of sensitive tech. He's close enough now to sense that simmering heat roll from the other's frame, close enough to lean up and nuzzle the tips of tines against lengths of horns. A kiss is pressed to the back of Blaster's neck, lips mouthing in their muted ways what his projections slide into the other's cortex--

**...recall the time...**

**...was this very console too, bent over...**

**...ah~ Do you see those dents? My servos, no..?**

**...can almost scent the ozone and smoky plastics from then...**

**...there's a bit of red enamel left where your left servo is~**

**...positively dripping with desire...**

\--oh how his Conjunx's frame belies his struggle though his vocals retain that smooth, calm, professional demeanor. Those feelers, having wound their way all about Blaster's frame, push and pull, tug and plead with the other until Blaster's turned to face the spymaster. One dark spy who is now on servo and knee, kneeling with frame canted forward just enough to lend a bit of lift to his aft, dorsa swayed in just the right way to shift that slender pelvic armor as if to make ready for thicker, stronger servos to grip and pull back and...--

\--a Cheshire grin shifts to press lip plates to his bonded's upper interface panels, a molten suggestion sighs to run thousands of tendrils of whispers across his cortex. The spymaster's crimson optics glance up into those beautiful blues, wide, open, there are no secrets behind those lenses this cycle--

**For me, Maestro~**

\--the trilling sigh that leaves him speaks of relief and praise when those panels click to slide open, exposing Blaster's array. His glossa, slick with oral lubricant, thrumming with his natural heat, runs the length of his bonded's housed spike before it slips free, pressurizing instantly from the touch--

\--he can actually hear the call muted just as Blaster hisses a string of prayers and platitudes and curses all within the span of a single exvent. And in the next, business as usual, though those beautiful blues have quite suddenly shuttered, and those servos falter to grip the console now at his dorsa--

**Beautiful~**

\--those pesky feelers arch just enough to aid in supporting Blaster's frame, constricting just enough to ensure they are made aware of, spreading those legs for the spymaster as he continues to dote upon his Maestro's spike all sorts of little licks and lavishing long, languid laps. His segmented glossa flattens, thickens, grows supple and firm, curves and stiffens throughout its worshiping. Each thin plate becomes the main focus, each stretch of pressurized mesh and cable and biolight is mapped over and over again. When the spymaster reaches the very tip, venting a hot stream of condensation and exhaust from his helm's slats, his glossa folds to curl around the bottom bauble of that piercing, plucking the little nodule to roll between his denta and lips--

\--another kiss placed just under the tip of his Conjunx's spike, and he pauses to glance up once more, an optic ridge arching gracefully as if to feign inquiry--

\--should he continue or should he let you go on about your business?--

\--there is no denying the furrowed expression that his bit of teasing earns him, no denying that servo suddenly cupping the back of his helm, rough caresses threaded through tines. No denying the cant of that larger pelvic span or the trembling of those legs--

\--another sigh vented and he dims his optics, half-shuttered as his vision becomes unfocused and he takes Blaster's spike down until face plates nuzzle those panels and the tip nudges the back of his oral intake. Each slow, deliberate swallow rolls oral calipers along the entire length of his bonded, his denta apply only the briefest of ghosting pressure at the base while his jaw moves and lip plates suckle. And then his helm gradually pulls away, leaving a slick, dripping mess along his Maestro's shaft. The dark spy lingers at the head, sucking gently, swirling his glossa slowly, massaging that piercing and that mesh and biotech until droplets of transfluid build up enough to be swallowed down. And at the behest of that servo at his helm, he pushes forward once more to meet an involuntary thrust--

\--the excerpts he gathers from the conference call are logged then promptly discarded, the continuous quiet trilling focusing his attention on that thick spike grinding up into his oral intake. Another suppressed moan from Blaster and jerking of those hips has the dark spy's digits digging all the more into that pelvic plating and joints, and he leans with greater strength to pin Blaster to the console and cease his movement. Feelers lift the other just enough to have him resting on the tips of his pedes, squeezing to restrain those legs until the spymaster is through with his entertainment--

**Mmh, must maintain some semblance of decorum while on official business~**

\--more snickers even as his helm bobs to take in all Blaster has to offer. His mouth tightens, his throat seizes, and as he suckles with his face once more nuzzling Blaster's array, his feelers begin to thrum and vibrate to a low, bass-like resonation, the reverberation shuddering throughout both their frames. His motions gradually fall into a familiar rhythm, his pace quickening, and just when he knows he's driven his bonded to the cusp of release, he pauses to look up yet again, crimson optics rimmed white, a deep energon-infused blush spread across his own features--

\--his whole frame falls to that pace and dance of pleasuring his mate, hips rolling slowly, legs spreading wide, his biolights like brilliant comet tails thick and bright against his inky mesh--  
\--and just when he would open his own panels to service himself in time to his bonded's pleasuring, Blaster's hitched and greatly restrained cry is manually cut off. Jetted transfluid coats the dark spy's oral intake, and though he furiously swallows, overflow begins to trickle from the corners of his mouth--

\--with a heavy, content vent, he's pulled away, slowly, savouring the heat and laps of static teasing his metal, and in the next few kliks he delights in lapping up every drop, cleaning his bonded's spike and array despite the twitching and hushed whimpering protests issued--

\--just as quietly as he arrived, he takes his leave, but not after a short and meaningful kiss placed upon those smirking lips--

\--you know where to find him, Maestro. After your shift, that is~--


End file.
